


Copper and Alcohol

by Zoe13



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Bulimia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self Harm, Side Calum/Ashton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoe13/pseuds/Zoe13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael messes up a guitar solo and feedback from fans makes him believe that the boys are going to kick him out of the band.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Copper and Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a random one shot! If you like Clemmings, I have a complete work and then another work I'm about halfway through called 'Suicide [Love] Notes' that you should check out ;)  
> Comment and let me know what you think!

Michael had always felt confident about one thing and one thing alone: music. He loved to sing and figured he was pretty good at it, and guitar had seemed natural to him since he first picked one up.

But then suddenly he wasn't so sure. It was just one note out of place, one wrong note at the wrong time, but it was during a solo and it grated on everyone's ears. It happens, though, and he'd kept going, figuring that he carried on pretty well and believing that it would soon be forgotten.

Well, everyone's a critic. Even fans, apparently. He'd been barraged on twitter about it and it had even been brought up in an interview earlier that morning. The boys were just awkwardly laughing it off and Michael felt like a complete failure, his castle in the air falling apart a little. Music had been a sort of fortress for Michael, as if it had kept out the people he'd once known. It was as if all of the people from his childhood who had told him he wasn't good enough, that he was a failure, had hit a wall when it came to music. Michael didn't think he was fantastic, but they were evidently surprised. They hadn't been able to get to it to pick it apart. But now they could and they were. He messed up one guitar solo and his wall was breached, his confidence gone.

They had a break from performing and Michael didn't know if he could get himself back on stage when it ended. All the walls were being torn down now and he'd avoided the boys all day.

Luke wasn't helping. He wasn't doing anything wrong, it was just that he was, well, _Luke_. Luke Fucking-Perfect Hemmings. Also Michael's biggest weakness. That wasn't all over twitter but it hurt too. With his feelings for Luke and that one small but oh-so-huge screw up, Michael felt like he was having a mental breakdown. He was sitting in his and Ashton's hotel room alone and freaking out because what if the tweets were right? _What if they kicked him out of the band?_ He wasn't good at anything, he'd have nowhere to go.

All of his old problems were itching at him, his old insecurities were wracking his brain. His arms itched where scars had long since faded- scars no one knew about, and he wondered if he should try to lose weight again. Maybe if he looked better...

But it was awful. It had been so hard to stop once he'd started. _It's this or leave the band_ , his brain screamed at him. _What's more important? The boys or your health?_

The boys, or Luke specifically, quickly won out and Michael made his way to the bathroom. He'd do both- cut and throw up. It was cold outside so he could cover up, and the two had always gone together well anyway.

_______

Michael locked the bathroom door and slid down it, closing his eyes. It had only been two days worth of a break and they wanted to work some recording in there, saying something about an ep.

He was going to fuck it up so bad. They were going to ditch him and find someone else. He got up and went to the toilet, sticking his fingers down his throat and emptying his stomach into the porcelain bowl. He'd only been doing it for two days but he was feeling a little dizzy. Past experience told him that that meant he wasn't getting enough nutrition, which was the point in the end. He sat back and struggled to breathe as he wondered what would happen while they recorded. His breaths became shorter and he started feeling nauseous, his hands shaking as he sat down again. _This_ was new, this hadn't ever happened before.

"Michael!" Calum called through the door. Michael jerked back to reality and flushed the toilet. He'd cleaned his cuts with rubbing alcohol, and the strong scent of that drowned out the scent of vomit. He unlocked the door and stepped out. Calum flashed him a smile and Michael breathed a sigh of relief, sure that Calum didn't know what he'd been doing. He managed a weak smile back, worried that failure to do so would annoy Calum.

"I know it's cold outside, but isn't it a little hot inside to be wearing a sweater?" Calum teased.

Michael stiffened. "I get cold more quickly."

"I s'pose." Calum shrugged. "You ready to record? We're doing guitars first." He gave Michael a searching look and Michael froze up. What did _that_ mean?

"Um, yeah," he said weakly as he followed Calum out the door. He knew their new songs by heart and had diligently practiced them while the other boys were watching tv or playing games. He knew he needed more practice than they did.

They met up with Ashton and Luke in the hallway and Michael fell behind a bit as they chatted, heading down the elevator and into the awaiting car that would take them to the recording studio. Luke slid into the seat next to Michael and Michael cursed inwardly. He'd been avoiding Luke the most.

"Hey, are you okay?" Luke asked softly.

"Yeah, just tired," Michael said, because he figured it was what he was supposed to say. Luke gave him a look he didn't understand, one that he gave him pretty frequently, and Michael wondered if it was pity that he was such a screw-up. Before he'd thought that maybe-

But he knew now that that was ridiculous.

When they got to the studio they set up quickly and everything went smoothly to Michael's surprise. He felt a bit of confidence leak back in. When Calum suggested that they get pizza to celebrate a good first day, Michael cheerily agreed, mixing with the other three again and letting his guitar stay put away that night. He got on Twitter before he went to bed, though, and realized his mistake.

_Heard 5sos r recording bet Michael keeps messing up lol_

It was the first of many jokes like that and Michael ended up throwing a half-hearted excuse Ashton's way and sliding out of bed, heading toward the bathroom.

The bathroom smelled like copper and alcohol when he went back to bed.

_______

Michael smelled different and Luke couldn't help but notice as he cuddled up next to him. He smelled like alcohol, but too strongly for it to be beer or anything like that. He smelled like cleaner and Luke didn't like it. It was different and not _Michael_ at all.

Luke turned and leaned against the headboard of the bed, pulling an absent looking Michael in between his legs. It was much easier and Luke frowned as he curled his arms around the other boy, feeling a bit of a sharp hip poking through. He'd been heavier just days before.

"Ready to record tomorrow?" Calum asked Ashton. They hadn't started on drums yet.

"Yeah!" Ashton whooped, high giving Calum. 

"We're finishing the guitar parts tomorrow, right?" Michael asked quietly. It was the first time he'd spoken in a while and all the boys looked at him. 

"Yeah. I think you only have one song tomorrow. Then we're moving on to vocals," Calum told him, trying to smile encouragingly. Something was really off with Michael, but Luke couldn't figure it out. 

"I'm going to bed," Michael said, sliding out of Luke's arms. "I need sleep if we're recording tomorrow."

"Love you, man," Calum called after him. Michael flashed him a weak smile and shut the door.

"Something's really off with him," Luke said quietly.

Calum got up and perched on Ashton's lap, closer to Luke. "Yeah," he agreed. "He used to be like this when we first met but then he got better. It's weird. He would hide all the time and just sit by himself. I wonder what's wrong."

"Have you checked twitter?" Ashton asked. "You know how much time he spends on there- I'll bet it's got something to do with that."

"He has been on it even more lately," Calum said thoughtfully. Luke pulled out his phone and quickly got twitter up. 

"Look under the 5sos tag or his name," Ashton suggested as Calum pulled out his phone too.

"Um...some people encouraging him even though he messed up- what did he mess up?" Calum asked.

"I dunno," Ashton shrugged, looking over Calum's shoulder. 

"Yeah, some people telling him not to listen to haters. That's basically it," Luke said.

"That's weird," said Ashton. "He doesn't have a lot of haters."

"Wait, listen to this," Calum said. "'Michael can't even play guitar, what is he good for?' What does that even mean?"

"'I don't know why the boys have kept Michael around he has no talent,'" Luke read. "Those dirtbags! He's probably beating himself up over this!"

"Shit," Calum groaned. "He always freaks out when he messes up stuff like this. He's been practicing almost non stop."

"He's too hard on himself," Luke frowned.

"I think you should talk to him about this," Calum said.

"Why me?" Luke asked, turning his phone off. The tweets were making him sick.

"I agree," Ashton piped up over Calum's shoulder. You calm him down better."

"No I don't," Luke argued. "And Calum's known him the longest."

"How about because he really likes you and will probably be more ready to believe you than us," Calum said. 

"You think he likes me better?" Luke asked, confused.

Calum looked frustrated. "Were we this thick, Ash?" He asked him. 

"Nearly," Ashton told him. "Luke, what we mean is that Michael definitely has very strong feelings for you. In a different way. I'm having trouble wording this."

"He has a massive crush on you," Calum supplied helpfully.

"Oh." Luke stared at them. "You- you really think so?"

"Luke, before Michael loves, he hates, and the stronger he hates, the more he loves later. If you could think of one person he had hated more than anyone, who would it be?" Calum asked. 

"Me?" Luke asked. Calum gave him an over exaggerated nod. "Oh. I- yeah, I should talk to him- but he's asleep. I'll do it after we get back to the hotel tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Ashton yawned. "Now off to bed, kiddo."

Luke rolled his eyes and headed towards the door.

"Luke," Calum stopped him. "You do feel the same way about him, right?"

"Yes! Definitely. I- yeah." Luke turned red. "I like him a lot."

"You can tell us next time," Calum told him. "Well probably have guessed it already anyway."

"Well I don't think there will be a 'next time' because I really do like him," Luke said. He turned left, heading to his and Michael's hotel room. He was glad he had switched with Ashton; it would make it easier to talk to Michael the next day.

As he climbed into bed he realized that the hotel room smelled like rubbing alcohol, and he wondered what that meant. 

_______

Michael realized that he'd overdone it when he woke up the next morning already feeling dizzy. The room was spinning as he stumbled around trying to get dressed, and he tripped to the bathroom, sitting on the floor with his was between his knees to try and calm down. He wanted to cut but he was worried that losing blood would only make him dizzier. 

He felt feverish in his sweater and he let it slide to the ends of his shoulders, airing his collar bones. They were already jutting out more, he noticed, but he knew that he had to slow down the vomiting or he'd pass out in front of the boys sometime. He'd avoid doing it that day and only do it once the next.

Finally the dizziness turned to a headache and a bit of nausea, which was manageable. He left the bathroom and caught up with his bandmates who were heading to the car.

_______

He only had one more song- then he could rest and go back to more familiar ones. He tried to stay positive but it felt like it just didn't come naturally to him. 

They got his guitar hooked up and he entered the recording booth. He felt like he was burning up. His Hans were sweaty and shaky and he wiped them in his pants before he picked up his guitar.

He was almost done when it happened again- he faltered and his hand slipped and he froze up, panicking.

"Michael?" he heard from what sounded like very far away.

_They're gonna kick me out. They don't want to put up with me. I'm such a failure. I screwed up. What am I gonna do?_

"Michael?" Someone was pulling the guitar from him and he let them, feeling dull and achy and dizzy. The panic kept rising higher. 

"Michael!" It was Luke. "Sit down, Michael, you need to calm down!" Hands sat him on the floor, gently guided his head between his knees. Michael took a few deep breaths and reality settled back in.

Cold, hard reality. 

"Don't-" he choked. "Don't touch me." He shook off the hand which he knew was Luke's from the trail of fire it left on his skin.

"Michael, wait!" Luke reached out for him and Michael stumbled to his feet. 

The room was spinning so fast, Michael thought he was going to vomit. Black spots entered his vision. He took a step forward, wanting to leave, to run away, but his legs gave way and he crumpled to the floor.

" _Michael_!" He heard, just before he blacked out.

 _I have to leave_ . . .

_______

When Michael woke up, the room was dim. He was in a hospital and his heart picked up speed. _What if they'd seen_ -

He tried to sit up but he couldn't. His arms were strapped to the bed. 

"Oh my god," he breathed, panicking as he pulled at his right wrist. He pulled again, jerking. They were fastened with black straps and his arms were bandaged. There was an IV in his arm and Michael realized that they were giving him fluids because he must be dehydrated. He was a wreck and the boys definitely knew it. Unless, of course, they'd sent him to the hospital and gone off to find someone else, someone to replace him.

Michael gave up, sagging into the bed. Nothing mattered. The boys were gone. _Luke_ was gone. He realized that all along he'd had some tiny speck of hope that was only now crushed as he realized that he was all alone. 

Once the first tear fell he couldn't stop. They rolled down his face quickly and he couldn't wipe them away. 

Then the door swung open. Michael stiffened and shoved his emotional mask back into place, even though there were tears on his cheeks. 

It was Luke, of all people, who walked in, and that only made Michael want to cry even more. 

"Michael!" Luke cried, running to the bed. He reached it and threw his arms around Michael, hugging him tightly. "God, we were so worried! What were you thinking? Oh, _Michael_ . . ."

Michael was confused. Luke wasn't even supposed to be here.

"Why are you here?" he asked dully. 

Luke pulled away and stared at him in shock."What? Where would I be?"

"I thought you'd be looking for someone to replace me," Michael told him, his mask cracking. His lip trembled and he bit it.

"God _damn_ it, Michael!" Luke turned and kicked something Michael couldn't see. It clattered across the floor. "Don't go there! We aren't 5sos without me, or Calum, or Ashton, or _you_!" 

"But I keep screwing up," Michael said. He felt his wrist restraint on the left give a little and realized it wasn't properly fastened. They hadn't changed his clothes yet- if he could get past Luke he could run out of there, run _away_.

"Michael, I don't care if you make a mistake very time you even _look_ at a guitar. We need you in the band as much as we need anyone else! And you're one of the best guitar players I've ever seen!"

Michael wasn't paying much attention but the rant kept Luke occupied as the left restraint finally opened up and Michael pulled out his IV and quietly started undoing the right one.

"I don't know why you're so fucking _hard_  on yourself," Luke ranted. "If one of _us_ messes up you're the first to encourage and reassure us. It's no big deal. But you made one little mistake, Michael, one! And now you're in the hospital and they said that you're bulimic and I don't even _want_ to see your arms because _why would you do that?_ Why do you _hate_ yourself so much?" Luke turned his back as he paced and Michael got to his feet and ran for the door.

Luke was on him before he touched the handle, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him back. 

"Don't you _dare_." 

Michael fought back, trying to break his hold on him, but he was weak and dizzy. He finally gave up completely and relaxed in Luke's arms. Luke loosened his grip a bit and Michael slid out of it, but Luke was blocking the door and Michael only back further into the room. 

He wished a doctor or a nurse would come in and put him back to sleep. He wished they'd lick Luke out because his presence was hurting Michael's chest and making it hard to think.

"I'm so _confused_!" He backed up a step as Luke stepped forward. "Why haven't you left!"

"Michael..." Luke's voice was soft. "I want to help you."

"Well you can't!" Michael cried. He ripped off the bandage on his left arm, then the right, holding them out to Luke. " _Look_! You can't help _that_!"

Luke flinched, his eyes filling with tears as he looked at Michael's mutilated arms. His eyes wandered  up to Michael's left collarbone where the sweater had slipped off of Michael's shoulder. 

"Michael, _please_ ," he said. "Let me help. I want to help you."

Michael's eyes filled up with tears that quickly spilled over, blurring his vision. " _Why_?"

Luke took a step forward and, when Michael didn't move away, surged forward and pulled him into his arms. Michael clung to him tightly, crying into his neck. 

"I was so scared, Michael. You just- you collapsed and Ashton was on the phone and Calum was freaking out and then they told us you could have died if you kept losing weight like that. You could have _died_."  

"I'm sorry," Michael said into his shoulder.

"No, Michael, don't be _sorry_. It wasn't you, babe, except that you're so hard on yourself."

"I just really hate myself," Michael confessed. He was still confused. He hadn't thought this part through. He hadn't considered ending up in the hospital. "I dot know what to do."

"Let me in," Luke said. "Tell me what's going on in your head. I care about you, Michael, and I want to know what you think, how you _feel_."

"Why?" Michael asked again.

Luke pulled back and for a moment he looked like he wanted to shake Michael or yell in frustration. 

Then he leaned in and kissed him. 

It only confused Michael more but he went with it, kissing him back and clinging to him again as if he'd disappear. Luke pulled away after a moment and Michael wanted to follow and kiss him again but he didn't dare. He looked down, not eating to meet his eyes.

"Michael..." Luke tilted his face up and looked him in the eyes. "You are so important to me. _Please_ , I can't lose you."

"I-" Michael stared. "You really..."

"Yes! I _love_ you," Luke told him. "I get it if you don't feel the same but _please_ don't-"

"I do. Feel the same." Michael could barely take it all in. "I- okay. Just, do you promise to stay with me? Please? I need you."

He felt so vulnerable. He'd never opened up for someone so much. 

Luke's answer was another kiss and Michael responded quickly before Luke jerked away. 

"You need to get back in bed! You ripped your IV out! I completely forgot- I'm so horrible-!" Luke picked Michael up without warning and set him on the bed, pulling the sheets over him. "Stay here!"

He ran out the door to find a doctor and Michael felt himself smile. 

_______

They postponed the rest of the tour and Michael started seeing a psychiatrist. The first few sessions got nowhere until the psychiatrist let Luke come with Michael. Michael started opening up then an they worked through a lot. Calum and Ashton went with them one too to work through some of Michael's worries. It wasn't long before the psychiatrist agreed to once a month sessions and they got back on the road, Michael and Luke taking a flight back to Australia every month. 

It was a hard, tearful journey and Michael sometimes suspected it was harder on Luke than on him, but they got through it and one day they walked out of the psychiatrist's office for the last time. 

In celebration they took a week's break. The first two days they wrapped up recording on the ep and then spent the rest relaxing. 

Michael was open about his struggles. He'd gone back to short sleeve shirts and he ignored any negativity. He'd learned to focus on the positive and it was easy to do when he could think _Luke loves me._

"What are you thinking about?" Luke's voice interrupted Michael's thoughts. 

"I love you," Michael told him. Luke looked as happy to hear it as Michael always was to hear it from Luke and he took Michael's hand, kissing the inside of his wrist.

"I love you too."


End file.
